Gone
by aleenaward
Summary: Will Dean be gone forever? Can Sam find a way to help him before he completely loses his humanity? Will Castiel lose his grace? Will Sam resort to making a deal with Crowley? (Story is a WIP, no beta, first Supernatural fic. Spoilers up to 9.23 "Do You Believe in Miracles?" Comments, reviews, and reads are definitely welcome. (: Updates may be slow. :/ )
1. Chapter 1

Everything was different, darker, it seems. The room wasn't literally dark, just it seemed more sinister. The scent of rotting eggs was heavy in the air. Crowley was standing at the foot of Dean's bed and he stood quickly, the First Blade clutched tightly in his hand. The pain that Dean was feeling just a few hours ago was completely gone, replaced by a feeling of power. Crowley was standing there, a smug smile plastered on his face. "Nearly done seething there, Squirrel?" Crowley took a step forward, his hands hung casually by his sides. Dean growled at him, actually growled, and Dean's grip on the First Blade tightened, the Mark of Cain on his arm surged with heat and glowed brightly against his skin.

"What the hell, Crowley? I was dead! I know Sam and I have a tendency to come back, but this is different. Metatron killed me." Dean tried to speak calmly, but something had him nearly screaming, his anger swelling. Something was definitely wrong in this situation; the smell of sulfur on Crowley has never been this strong before.

"And now you're not. Just be thankful your brother didn't have to make a deal this time. This summoning he's been doing for the past two hours is just pathetic," Crowley said with exasperation heavy in his voice. At the mention of Sam Dean visibly relaxed. Sammy is alive and that's all that matters, Dean thought. An audible 'click' was heard and Dean's eyes turned back to show their normal vibrant green, but there was a look of horror on his face, while Crowley had the same smug grin.

"What. The hell. Is going. On?" Dean reiterated, growing even more annoyed with the demon in front of him.

"You're a demon, Dean. And not just any demon either. You're the newest, and only, since you killed Abbadon, Knight of Hell," Crowley stood there, expression dangerously blank now. Dean stood, frozen for a moment as he waited for his heart to start beating again, but noticed it didn't after a whole minute. Recognition flashed over Dean's face as he put two and two together. The sulfur was not coming from Crowley, but himself.

"What is this, Harry Potter?" Dean scoffed, as if trying to play it all off as a joke. "So why'd you do it? Hm? Why'd you bring me back just to make me a demon?" He asked angrily, wondering why Crowley would need him as a Knight of Hell. Another audible 'click' was heard his eyes shifted to complete black again. "And how the hell do I control this?" He gestured to his eyes.

Crowley approached Dean slowly, taking the blade out of his hand gently and setting it on the bed. He stood for a moment before slapping him hard across the face, making his head jerk to the side. "Don't." Another harsh slap. "Get." An even more brutal backhand caused Dean's lip to split and blood dripped down onto his chin. Crowley leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Mad." He took a few steps back and stuck his hands into his pockets. It took the new demon a few minutes of deep breathing and thoughts about Sam and Cas before another 'click' was heard and his eyes went back to their usual green.

Unable to hold it back, he growled again. "Real easy to do when you're backhanding me."

"Shut up, Squirrel. Now, let's talk about-"Crowley was interrupted when Sam barged in and stood staring at Dean with his mouth gaping open.

"Hey Sammy," the older brother said quietly as he took in his brother's haggard appearance. It was obvious he had been drinking from the stench of whiskey coming from him. Even without Dean's new demonic powers he could smell it easily.

Sam was still staring at Dean and he started to fidget. What if he knows? Can he tell? Dean's thoughts were interrupted when Sam ran over and gripped him in a tight hug, silent sobs wracking his body. His head was leaning on Dean's shoulder and he could feel his tears leaking onto his shirt, soaking it down to his skin. It was a few moments later when Sam finally pulled away, trying to compose himself and then turned to Crowley. "T-Thank you. I-I know I didn't get to make the deal, so why did you-?" Sam left the question hanging in the air and it found both brothers wondering the same thing. Dean also turned to Crowley to see him shaking his head.

"I'm telling you this once, Moose. I didn't bring Dean back. He came back on his own terms." Dean shook his head, confused about how he came back on his own terms. Sam looked at Dean, fully expecting an explanation.

"I don't remember anything besides," Dean paused, a little uncomfortable remembering that moment. "I don't remember anything after Sammy helping me to the car. Everything else is blank. So no, Crowley. I did not come back 'on my own terms,' so why don't you enlighten us?" Dean felt his anger rising at the demon in front of him and took a few deep breaths to calm himself before his eyes changed again.

"The mark, it's changed you. Forever. There's no changing you back. Not even I, the King of Hell, can help you. Once you go black, you never go back. Maybe go and get your little angel boyfriend to help you." And with a snap of his fingers, he was gone. The brothers both sighed, both thinking about all this is going to change. Dean will have to leave and give up hunting. Sam will have to research nonstop to find a way to save his brother. Sam turned, looking at Dean expectantly. This is what I always hate, the chick flick moments, the telling of secrets like teenage girls, and the disappointed look I'll get from one of the only two guys that matter, Dean thought.

Dean focused for a moment while Sam was looking until he heard the 'click' and a gasp. Dean thought he could just feel the betrayal from Sam and sighed. "I'm a demon. A Knight of Hell. And I have to leave because-" Suddenly the air was knocked out of him when Sam hugged him.

"I don't care, Dean. It's not your fault the Mark did this to you. We'll find a way. We can get Cas to-" It was Dean's turn to interrupt him with an abrupt shove.

"We can't help it, Sam. You heard Crowley. There's no changing me now. That's why we can't tell Cas anything. If he shows, I died. I'm leaving because I can't hurt you or him." He said with emotion thick in his voice and stared at Sam as he began to cry even more and try to make his own argument. Dean closed his eyes and kept thinking of home back in Lawrence, Kansas; where his mom was alive and where he used to be a normal kid, trying to calm himself. Suddenly, he was in the yard of the old house. Sam was gone, Cas was gone, and now so was he.

* * *

Sam sunk onto the bed slowly, staring at the wall with a blank expression. After a moment he reached into the nightstand and pulled out the bottle of bourbon Dean kept. Sam was never really the heavy drinker, Dean always was, but he learned from his brother how to drown out the pain.

Half the bottle gone, Sam stumbled throughout the bunker, ending up back in the dungeon. The supplies to summon Crowley were still strewn about, just taunting Sam to use them. Sam threw the bottle across the room, shattered pieces flew across the floor as he kneeled. Fumbling with the match for a few seconds, it finally lit and he dropped it into the bowl with a bright flash of light. Sam out his arm up, shielding his eyes from the burning light and coughed. Crowley was standing about five feet away when Sam finally looked up.

Sam stumbled while standing, bracing himself against the wall. "Been hitting the bottle?" Crowley asked, amusement lacing his voice. Sam glared, or at least tried. He managed to narrow his eyes for a few seconds before blinking them rapidly. Crowley sighed and snapped his fingers. Immediately Sam stood up straight, all signs of intoxication gone. "What do you want, boy?" The demon asked, obviously tired.

"I want my brother back, I know there has to be a way to turn him back. I need you to bring him back here while I figure something out," Sam said, all seriousness now. "Maybe I can find something in the archives to help."

Crowley stood for a moment with a raw, away look on his face, "You don't know where he is?" He asked with something close to astonishment on his face.

Sam shook his head, "No. No, he just left after he told me." He gulped and looked around again, not wanting to look at Crowley.

Crowley nodded. "He's home," he said simply with a faraway look. Sam shook his head, confused.

"What the hell do you mean, 'home'? If you're talking about Hell, I swear, I'll kill you right now," Sam hissed. This got Crowley's attention and he focused on Sam.

"Pray tell, how do you think you're going to kill me? You haven't got any weapons on you right now, I'm not in that little devil's trap, and you haven't got your brother with the First Blade either," Crowley waved a hand and Sam was up against the wall, choking against an invisible force, struggling to get free. Crowley approached and leaned up close to Sam's face. "I could rip you to pieces with just a few simple words, so don't go around trying to boss me!" Spit flew from the demon's mouth, landing on Sam's face in disgusting little drops.

Crowley stepped back and Sam fell into a heap on the floor, gasping for air. "I see we have an understanding, hm? You do as I say, I'll bring back your brother to you, you find a way to change him back and I'll help when I can. Deal?" Crowley ask with a spark in his eye.

"I am not kissing you, Crowley. Besides, I'm not going to sell my soul just for you to bring Dean back here and I have to do whatever you say. Not gonna happen," he crossed his arms in defiance.

Crowley smirked, "No kissing, Moose. I don't trust you boys after that Singer man slipped me some tongue. And this isn't a regular deal, call it a, a favor. I scratch your back, and when I need you, you scratch mine," he stated simply. He stared at the Winchester boy with something strange gleaming in his eye.

Sam uncrossed his arms, giving Crowley a skeptical look. "Fine. Deal." He put his hand out, "I need to sign something, don't I?"

Crowley smiled, "Ah, you Winchester boys understand these deals perfectly," he said as he brought out a sheet of paper. "I've condensed it after the last time you boys wanted to actually read it all."

Sam scanned the contract quickly, finding nothing strange, and signed it with a deep breath. "Go find him. Now," Sam demanded, and now Crowley was gone too.

* * *

Dean found it impossibly easy to just appear wherever he wanted. He found himself at many different locations over the past few hours. First Dean went to a bakery and stole a pie, eating it quickly, but with no satisfaction. The pie was practically tasteless in his mouth, leaving him with half a cherry pie.

Dean found himself outside the bunker, staring longingly at the impala. A part of Dean, somewhere deep, wished he could take her with him, but he had no use for her anymore. Dean's eyes opened in shock at the thought of how he was willing to leave his baby behind. Dean glared murderously at the bunker's entrance and left without a sound, leaving him in a nameless bar in a nameless city.

It was twenty minutes later when Dean found out that he couldn't get drunk, even after a dozen shots of whiskey. The almost bartender seemed to be concerned. Almost. The bartender, Sydney, her name-tag read, was leaning over much more necessary to fill his glass. Each time her hand brushed against his and lingered longer than what would be deemed as "friendly."

After Sydney left, satisfied that Dean accepted her phone number, Crowley showed up, drink in hand. The younger mad didn't flinch, just felt the urge to beat Crowley senseless. The man sat there for another moment, sipping his drink, before setting it down and putting an arm on Dean's shoulder so quickly he didn't have time to react before he was back in the dungeon of the bunker. Sam was standing there; the handcuffs once used on Crowley now approached Dean as he stood hopelessly in the devil's trap. "We're going to help you, Dean." Came the guilt-filled reply from Sam.

Dean scoffed and got in a defensive crouch, ready to fight his brother. His eyes turned black and growled as Sam approached.

Crowley approached before Sam could, grabbing Dean's left arm and twisting it out of socket. Groaning, Dean threw Crowley off, slamming him into the edge of the devil's trap. Dean turned, walking over to where Crowley lay. A swift kick to the stomach had the King of Hell groaning in pain and clutching his stomach. "Get your bloody brother away!"

Sam nodded and ran to grab the shotgun. Picking it up, he pointed it at his brother's back. He hesitated for just a moment, but shot a round of rock salt into his back when Dean kicked Crowley again. It seemed like the blast lasted for minutes when Dean turned around slowly. Sam gulped and ran in front of Crowley, using his height to his advantage to tower over his brother. "Stop this. Now. This isn't you, Dean. You can stop," he said slowly as Crowley slowly stood behind him.

Dean took a small step forward, "You're protecting him? Just a few days ago we were planning to kill him!" Sam cringed slightly and Dean almost looked offended. Almost.

Crowley tapped Sam on the back as a signal and he nodded. Before Dean could react, Crowley disappeared from sight and reappeared behind him, clamping the chain around his neck and grabbing his arms behind his back, effectively holding him back. Sam rushed and finished chaining him up. Crowley looked at Sam with an expectant look and, for a moment, Sam was confused. Crowley just pointed to the paint on the floor and Sam scraped a line away quickly. Sam tossed him a can of spray paint from his duffel and started repainting.

Crowley stood and wiped his hands together, dusting off dirt. "Well, somebody's going to have to keep an eye on him at all times, and judging by how he's a demon and you are a human, I'll be the one for the job. Plus a few of my pets to help, of course." Crowley smirked and suddenly a foul odor filled the room. It was a smell Sam could never forget. It was the smell of Crowley's hellhounds. "You go on and hit the books while Juliet and I keep watch over your brother." Sam just nodded and walked out silently, sparing a quick glance back at Dean.

* * *

It had been three days since Dean was first chained back up. Three days filled with constant reading, constant research, and constant praying. Dean finally stopped screaming threats and thrashing around after his eyes turned green again. So far he has yet to stop apologizing and asking to be let go. Sam only goes in the room to ask Crowley an occasional question, but to no avail.

It had been three days of nothing.

Sam had been researching nonstop and had slept for only four hours each night. Crowley ended up having to spike Sam's coffee to make him sleep. Three days later and there is no more information on healing a demon. Nothing more about the Mark of Cain has been found. Nothing on Cain, Abel, and Colette has been found other than the basic information.

Three days later and Castiel still has not showed up. Sam has been begging Castiel in his prayers to come, to help, but he will not come. Sam is worried that Castiel has fallen, that he is no longer an angel, or that Metatron killed him too.

It has been three days of nothing but constant worry, coffee-chugging, and researching. Sam is about to lose his mind.

* * *

Castiel has been in Heaven ever since he was first imprisoned with Gadreel.

Heaven is in shambles, angels fighting to get their hands on Metatron. Some angels want to kill him, others want to set him free. And Castiel is the one to decide which goes. Hannah has been by his side ever since Gadreel's sacrifice, helping him lead the angels again, which he still doesn't want to do.

Yet Castiel is still so tired. Some part of him thinks it's because of his diminishing grace, but another part of him knows it's because of Dean's situation. Castiel knows that Dean is a demon, all of the angels know, and not from Sam's loud, hopeless prayers.

Just hours after Castiel was told of Dean's death all angels heard the screaming of demons. Chanting non-stop for hours that "Dean Winchester is dead! Dean Winchester is ours!" That hurt him the most, knowing that now Dean was damned to either walk on earth for eternity or torture more souls in Hell, knowing that Dean is a demon didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. It was the fact that no matter what he did, he couldn't save him. All that Castiel did was for nothing.

Castiel hears the pleading prayers from the younger Winchester, but cannot help him. He fears that if he sees Dean's dark, empty void where his once bright, vibrant soul used to be, he might die.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have you found anything yet?" Sam had his phone set to speaker as he looked through the Book of Genesis again. It was day seven of searching for an answer and they still weren't any closer.

"Don't you think if I had something I would've called? There's nothing here, I'm coming back now." As soon as Crowley finished speaking he appeared in front of Sam in the library.

Sam sighed and ended the call. "I don't know what to do. We've looked everywhere for something." Sam ran his hands through his hair and stood up, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

"Why don't you just try that demon cure you tried to use on me? It might work; it was starting to on me." Crowley grabbed two glasses and sat down across from Sam.

"Dean might die if I try that, besides then I'd be completing the trials, which would kill me. Either way, one of us ends up dead." He poured a shot and downed it quickly. "How is Dean doing, anyway?"

Crowley shrugged and stirred his glass. "Do you boys not know anything about good beverages? He's doing fine; he's not fighting if that's what you're asking."

Sam just knocked back another glass and narrowed his eyes at him. "That's it. I'm done. We're doing this." Sam stood quickly and rushed into the other room, grabbing the same box of supplies for when he did this to Crowley. "Get Dean back to that church where I took you. Don't let him out of the chains, don't talk to him; just don't risk anything."

Before Sam could stop him, Crowley managed to throw him across the room into the wall. Sam groaned, right on the edge of unconsciousness, and got to his knees. "Why don't you just go find Cain again? I have a deal with you, Sam, and you haven't gotten to fulfill your end yet." He picked Sam up by the collar. "So, this is how it's going to go. We're going to go find Cain while Juliet watches that brother of yours."

Sam coughed, "What do you mean, 'deal'? We didn't make a deal! What the hell do you want me to do?" He struggled against the wall, trying anything to get free. Kicking, punching, even clawing Crowley's arm.

Crowley just tsked him, "Now, now. I may have called it a favor, but since when do I do favors? Your soul will be mine unless you do what I say when I say it. For what you have to do though," he paused and looked away for a moment. "You'll just have to wait and see. I have plans for you" Sam gasped as he was dropped. "Get ready. We're finding Cain." And he walked off as if nothing happened, dodging the devil's traps as he walked back into the dungeon.

* * *

Sam sat on the floor for a moment, catching his breath. Crowley has plans for him. So did the yellow-eyed demon years ago. He relayed the events that have happened lately with Crowley in his head. He's been helpful, hinting to what needs to be looked at and what doesn't; he's even been nice to Sam.

Sam was never one for showing his fear, but by the time he stood, he was shaking.

* * *

Dean was sick and tired of being chained up, being guarded by the horrific hellhounds, having to put up with Crowley, and not seeing Sammy. Dean couldn't help but overhear some of the conversations between his keepers.

They're obviously working to find a cure for him being a demon, which he is glad, but he doesn't want to be chained up the whole time. Dean wonders why they haven't tried to cure him like they tried with Crowley, but then he heard their conversation, or rather, argument.

Dean was seeing red, or rather, black. His eyes had shifted when he heard Crowley speak. Sam made a deal. He was going to kill Crowley, he knows Sam would never make a deal for him. Sam had even said he wouldn't try to bring Dean back like he had.

Crowley waltzed in and stood straight in front of Dean, smiling slightly. "I take it you heard?" Dean just strained harder against the chains. "I'll take that as a yes. Good." Crowley pulled a chair over and sat right in front of Dean. "I'm sure you're wondering what my plans for your brother are."

"How thick in the head are you? Sam said he didn't make a deal with you! You can't have his soul!" He screamed, the Mark of Cain on his arm surged with light and Crowley stared with fascination.

"Do you want to know what I expect of your brother or not?" He asked, his patience with Dean wearing thin. Dean just growled at him and sat back slightly. Crowley took this as a yes and continued. "You remember how your brother had this little addiction? How it gave him powers? I'm going to use him to make sure you don't try to take my throne."

Dean lowered his voice. "Listen here, Crowley. If you go anywhere near my brother again, I will skin you alive. I don't want your stupid throne, leave Sam out of this! He won't drink demon blood, you can't make him! I won't let you!" He started thrashing against the chains wildly, screaming for Sam, not caring that the cuffs were digging deeply into his skin.

"Yes, bring him in here. Then I can get him to drink the blood sooner." Crowley said nonchalantly and Dean immediately stopped. Sam appeared at the doorway, looking paler than usual.

"Dean, what's wrong? Are you okay? What did Crowley do?" Dean hadn't heard Sam speak to him that much for a whole week. When Sam would come in the room he'd either nod his head and say "hey" or just leave. Apparently Dean's staring just worried him more because Sam had Ruby's knife against Crowley's neck as he held him against the wall. "What did you do to him?"

"Sam, you need to get away from Crowley. Now." Dean urged, still trying to get out of the chains.

Sam looked conflicted. "Why? Did he hurt you?" He pressed the knife further against Crowley's neck, drawing a few drops of blood. "I can find a cure without him, Dean. I can handle this."

Dean's breath hitched when he saw the blood. "Sam, get out now! Crowley's going to-" He was interrupted when Sam came crashing into him. "God dammit," he groaned. "Sam? You okay?" When Sam didn't respond Dean started to panic. "Sammy? Come on, answer me!"

Crowley approached the brothers slowly. "Do you want him to live or not, Dean?"

Dean gaped, "Of course I do! What the hell kind of question is that? Hey, get away from him!" Dean yelled as Crowley went behind him to Sam's unmoving body, the breaths were even, which caused him to calm slightly. "Don't touch him! I swear to God, Crowley!"

Crowley guffawed, "God? After all of the fighting, the death, the apocalypse, even the angels telling you God's gone, you swear to him? You are one pathetic demon, Dean."

"Don't call me that! Just get away from Sammy!" The cuff on Dean's right wrist loosened slightly. Deciding it was worth the pain, he dislocated his thumb to get free. He turned to see Crowley crouching in front of Sam's body.

As he reached down Sam's hand snatched his wrist, catching him off guard. Sam quickly brought his feet up and used all of his strength to push Crowley away. As he was sent backwards, Sam pounced on Crowley, keeping him pinned in the devil's trap with Ruby's knife against his throat again. "Let me out of my contract. I'm not doing anything for you."

"I hope you're not thinking of killing me, Moose. You boys try to weasel your way out of so many deals I made this one weasel-proof. Or, well, moose-proof. I die, you die immediately and you stay in Hell forever. I'm not satisfied, you die with a snap of my fingers and you're in Hell. But, if I am satisfied, you live and get to keep your soul. Plus you get my help with Dean over there." Crowley's face was blank, making it hard to tell if he was lying or not.

"Sam. Sam, get away from him! He's going to get you hooked on demon blood again!" Dean had to yell, had to get Sam away from Crowley before he did anything to him. "Unlock me, I'll take care of this."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Crowley. "I don't care if I die. If I take you out with me, then my life was worth something. Besides, how am I supposed to know you're not lying? I could be perfectly fine when I slit your throat."

"You can't tell if I'm lying, but listen to my voice, boy. I. Am not. Lying." Sam's eyes widened, Crowley was telling the truth. "Besides, don't you miss the taste? You know each time you kill a demon you're still tempted. It may not be strong, but the urge is there. You felt so powerful. Don't you want that again?"

Dean was starting to get scared when Sam's hand holding Ruby's knife started shaking. "Sam? Tell me you're not actually thinking of this, are you?" Dean's eyes went back to green when he thought of Sam still being subjected to the urges of his addiction.

Sam backed away quickly and shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm fine." He whispered more to himself than Dean. Sam dug around in his pockets for the keys to the chains and started unlocking them, never taking his eyes off of Crowley. "I'm fine, Dean." Sam mumbled again after Dean was completely released.

Dean turned and backed Crowley to the edge of the devil's trap. "Gotcha." Dean's eyes turned black and Crowley was down.

* * *

"Why did you want Sam to drink demon blood?" Dean asked after hours of torture, his eyes never leaving behind the solid black color. Sam had left the room after claiming to be feeling ill. Dean knew he didn't want to be around to see him torturing Crowley, or his blood everywhere.

"I have plans for him." That's all Crowley had said for the past four hours. Nothing would get him to talk. Not even slicing open his skin and shoving salt in the wounds could make him talk. Not even directly injecting holy water into his blood stream. Not even slicing long, deep cuts along his whole body with Ruby's knife could make him talk, just scream in agony.

"What plans? Tell me!" Dean rubbed more salt into the open gash on Crowley's stomach, making him scream out in pain. "I can do this for all eternity now, so tell me!"

"Plans have been made. It's all been arranged." This time Dean took Ruby's knife and cut Crowley right below his eye deep enough he could feel it cut into the cheekbone. Then he doused it in holy water, making sure not to get any on himself.

"Okay! Damn!" Crowley hung his head against his chest, breathing deeply. "There's been a rumor that only you can take my throne from me now. But Sam, if he became a demon by drinking my blood, he'd have no choice but do what I say."

Dean sprayed more holy water on him, "What else? There's more, I know it!"

Crowley bit his lip so hard to keep from screaming that he could taste the metallic tang in it. "If I go missing and don't report back to my men they have orders to kill Sam so I can make him a demon in Hell. Dammit!" He screamed as Dean stabbed him in the stomach with a holy water dipped knife.

"When do you have to report back? I'm having fun." The smile on Dean's lips shook Crowley down to his core.

* * *

Sam could hear the screams. Sam could hear everything that was said. He said he was going to go to bed, his room was at the other side of the bunker, but he had to hear. Now that he heard, he wished he didn't. His stomach was in cramps, the room felt like it was spinning, and he wanted it.

Sam hadn't had an urge this strong since the weeks after facing Famine. Crowley must have done something to him, he thought. Sam rarely even thought of drinking blood again. He scratched his arm absentmindedly and stood. He started pacing from the door to the wall. Eleven paces one way, eleven paces the other way. He was starting to feel trapped, like he was back in the Cage.

Sam remembers everything from Hell. He remembers the tortures, metal and physical, the rape, and when he was forced to torture his loved ones. But Sam knows that he's not there anymore, he knows that he never really tortures Dean or Jess. He knows that no matter what Castiel did to take away the worst of the mental damage; he would always remember the years of suffering that he suffered through.

Feeling lightheaded, Sam sat down and rested his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths and walked out of the room. He was standing at the doorway to the dungeon and stopped, contemplating whether or not he should go in, but it was strangely quiet.

He entered the room and cleared his throat. Dean turned around, eyes black, covered in Crowley's blood. When he saw Sam his eyes immediately turned green again. He looked down at himself and cured. "Shit. Give me a minute to get cleaned up and I'll be right back." Dean hurried out of the room, not wanting to scare or worry his brother.

Sam just nodded and approached Crowley slowly. "You wanted to make me a demon? You wanted me to- to drink demon blood?"

"Want actually. I still want you to, but Dean seems a bit protective. I don't think he'll let me make you." Sam just scoffed and sat down in a nearby chair and started scratching his arm again. "You're feeling it, aren't you? The spell I cast?" Crowley asked and nodded his head towards the scratch marks on Sam's arms. "That's what an addict does."

Sam immediately stopped and scowled at Crowley. He stood up quickly and stopped at the edge of the devil's trap. "How do I reverse the spell?" Sam surprisingly asked calmly, his voice quiet.

"Only I can, and I don't plan to." He smirked and settled back against the chair he was strapped into.

"What spell is it? How does it work?" Sam needed to know, he was already thinking about all of the blood that was on Crowley.

"It works kind of like Famine does. Makes your deepest hunger, your addiction, take over everything else. You take a personal belonging of the victim, some of their hair, and a little bit of their addiction and voilà! You got yourself one addiction spell, ready for the participant." He said with a certain type of glee. "Oh, and you only crave the blood of the demons that participated in the spell. Which, of course, is just two."

Sam backed away slightly, but tried to manage a threatening tone. He was unsuccessful. "You put yours and Dean's blood in the spell? Reverse it! Now!"

Crowley just shook his head. "No, I won't. Besides, I put more of my blood in it. You think it's feeling bad now? Just wait. It gets worse than whatever Famine could manage to make. You're already thinking about my blood, aren't you? Give it a few hours and you'll be begging for a taste!" Dean walked back in at that moment and glanced at a shaking Sam.

Dean quickly placed Sam back in the chair. "Hey. Hey? Sam? You okay?" He started checking over his body for wounds and stopped at his arms. "You been scratching yourself? What the hell?"

"Get away from me, Dean." Sam spoke quietly and tried to push Dean away, but he didn't even budge. "I said get away!" Dean barely had time to dodge Sam's left hook, but managed. They both stood and stared at each other. "Get away."

"What the hell, Sammy? Why in the world did you try to take a swing at me? What's going on?" Dean took a step closer and Sam took a step back. They repeated this until Sam was only a few feet from the wall. "Stop backing away, dammit!"

"Dean, please. G-Get away." And the scratching resumed. Dean was ready to just grab his brother's wrist and yank it away, but something was off. Sam was sweating, but he looked pale, his cheeks weren't flushed at all. Plus there was the whole scratching thing going on. "Crowley. He-He cast a s-spell."

Dean turned when he heard Crowley chuckling. "What the hell did you do to him? Reverse it now!" Sam backed up even more and slid down against the wall, clutching his stomach. "Sammy?"

"If you let me go, I'll help him. You're not to come after me either. I still want to get you back to being a stupid human so I can keep my throne." Dean growled and was about to argue until he heard Sam's moans of pain. He quickly unlocked Crowley out of all the chains except for the ones around his ankles.

"That's all the freedom you get for now. Now help him!" Dean rushed to Sam's side to only be pushed back by him.

"Away. Get away." He groaned in between shallow breaths. "Please, oh God." Sam didn't know what he was begging for anymore. He wanted the blood so badly, but he didn't want it. His mind was telling him 'no' while his body was telling him 'yes'.

Crowley just took a small knife and a bowl from the supplies they had in there and made a shallow cut along Dean's palm. "Need this." He wiped the blood against the side of the bowl, making it gather in the bottom. Crowley made a deeper cut in the crook of his elbow and let the blood drip into the bowl. Sam's moans became louder as the drops of blood poured into the bowl.

"Hurry up, he's hurting!" Crowley ignored Dean's voice and sprinkled some unknown substance into the blood and mumbled some sort of incantation.

"Move back. It'll help him for a while, but I need other supplies for a reversion spell." Crowley said as he dipped his fingers in the bowl. He brought his fingers down to Sam's face and he groaned. He sprinkled it against the man's forehead, cheeks, and neck.

"No, get away." Sam tried to protest as Crowley brought the bowl to his lips.

"Wait, no! What are you doing? He's not drinking demon blood!" Dean objected, but barely moved.

"Don't worry. The blood won't have any effect on him because of the spell I'm doing now. He's going to feel as good as new after this." Crowley smiled as he poured the contents into Sam's mouth and held his nose, forcing him to drink. "Et bibite, et pueri mei. Hoc est ut nesciat frater tuus stultus certus manere diutius addictus. Quod non est verum remedium." He spoke quietly in Latin.

Sam, knowing how to speak Latin, tried to fight against Crowley, but failed. As soon as all of the blood was poured from the bowl Crowley stood and backed away, a smile on his face.

Sam stayed on the ground, mortified. He had a new feeling of power, but also anger, shame, and disappointment. A few stray drops of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away. "Get out. Get away." He spoke directly to Crowley. "Now."

Dean was confused, Sam looked better, but something seemed off about him. Now knowing what else to do, he kneeled in front of Sam. "Sam? You feeling better?"

"I'm fine. I just need to go." Sam stood and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Dean alone with his thoughts.

* * *

**(A/N: What Crowley said in Latin roughly translates to (I used Google Translate, I know it's not exactly correct): "Drink, my boy. Your idiot brother doesn't know that this is just making sure you stay addicted for longer. That was no real cure.")**


	3. Chapter 3

Sam practically ran to his room after he left the dungeon. He grabbed a duffel bag and started shoving clothes and weapons into it. After the first duffel bag was filled he snuck past the doorway of the dungeon to the library. Sam gathered all of his notes and all of the books he thought he would need to figure out a cure for Dean.

For now, Sam had to get away. He knew Crowley couldn't really have been helping them without some type of backstabbing, but he never thought he'd have to endure the tortures of demon blood

Sam shuddered involuntarily and headed back towards the dungeon to tell Dean not to follow him, to explain what happened, to explain his weakness. He stood in the doorway and saw Dean sitting in the same place he sat before, green eyes rimmed with red. "Dean."

Dean flinched at his own name and stood slowly. "Sammy? What're you doing with those bags?" He started to walk over, but Sam could feel how his body wanted more blood.

"Stop. Please, just don't come closer." He held out a shaking hand. "I know you're not going to like this, but I need to get away. From you. A-And Crowley, mostly. "

Dean had stopped automatically, but looked torn between trying to care for his brother or to heed his warning. "Hey, I know he cast a spell on you, but he said it should be better in just a little while. I'll get rid of him, but you need to stay here. You look like shit, you can't just go." He tried to reason.

"He cast two spells on me, Dean. Neither of them was good. I'm back on," Sam shuddered, unable to finish the sentence. He braced himself against the wall for a moment and straightened. "He did not cure me. He made it worse. Crowley didn't do any real spell to help, he just called you an idiot in Latin!"

Dean looked offended, but more outraged than anything, according to the color of his eyes. "I'm going to kill him, Sammy. I'm going to rip him to pieces! What the hell kind of spell did he put on you? Do you know?"

Sam just wanted to curl up into a ball to calm the cramps in his stomach. He wrapped his arms around his waist. "Dean. What did he put in the bowl that he made me drink?" He said as a way to get Dean to understand without having to actually say the words.

"He put some of mine and his blood in it," Dean took a step back and his eyes turned green again. "Holy shit, Sam." He stepped forward, but Sam groaned again.

"Dean. You're a demon, too," he clutched his stomach harder. "It's worse than with Famine. Crowley said that it's either your blood or his that I drink now, but I can't. Not again. That's why I have to leave."

"Almost forgot I was a demon, damn. I'll find something to help, I'm sure I can find something to reverse it." Dean looked like he was about to panic when Sam sat down in a chair, moaning in pain with his arms wrapped around his middle. "You're already in this much pain?"

Sam just groaned as an answer. "Withdrawal. He said it'd be worse. God!" Sam bit his lip to try to keep the shout in, but it was too late. Dean was at his side helping him back to his room and onto his bed

Dean was seriously starting to panic; he thought he was done watching his brother suffer through this kind of pain. "Okay, we just get you through this and it'll go away, right? We put you on lockdown like before and it should be over. Right?"

"I don't care, but whatever you do, stay away. Keep Crowley away. Just keep everybody away. I won't- I can't do it again." Sam was nearly in tears, from either pain or something else, neither brother knew.

"All right, Sammy. I can do that. You just stay in here. I'll still be looking though." Dean patted Sam's head and started chaining him down. "I'm sorry," he said every time Sam moaned or moved too much. After effectively handcuffing him to his bed, Dean sat I'm a chair across the room.

"N-No. You gotta get out." Sam mumbled between panting breaths. His stomach felt like it was on fire. It felt like somebody was taking a jackhammer to it constantly. Sam's head was pounding furiously and he wondered if it would ever stop.

Dean nodded. "I know, but I'm making sure you're okay for the moment. I'm going to start researching in a few minutes. Are you okay?"

Sam shook his head, "No, I'm not okay, just leave!" He tried to curl in on himself, but the cuffs on his ankles held him back, making him arch off the bed slightly. "Please!" Sam screamed towards the wall. Dean was unsure if he was already having hallucinations or not.

Dean would never admit it, but he was scared. Sam's withdrawal symptoms were never this severe until at least twelve hours into it. The spell must have been magnifying his want and need for it. He shivered at another one of his brother's piercing screams and left the room to research.

* * *

Crowley had left as soon as Sam was coherent enough to tell him to leave. He went straight to his apartment, the same one where Abaddon was killed. He passed the blood stains and spat. Chuckling, he went into his bedroom and opened the closet, revealing an elderly man in chains.

Crowley removed the gag and groaned when the man started throwing threats. "-and my grandson is on the police force! He'll have you thrown in jail for the rest of your life! My daughter is," the man was silenced when Crowley sliced his throat open.

"Hm, now I'm curious about what your daughter is. Pity." He shrugged and grabbed the metal goblet that was in the closet and filled it with the blood that was oozing out of the man's neck. He chanted quietly in Enochian and sat on the bed. "Yes, sir. The Winchester boy has been given the blood," he spoke into the cup. A moment later he spoke again. "No, the plan is not complete. We still need to cure Dean." He sighed, obviously agitated. "These things take time, but I will not fail you."

It was another moment before Crowley sat the goblet down on the bedside table. He would have to visit the younger Winchester soon to make sure he didn't fail his orders. "First, a drink." He smiled and picked the goblet back up. He quickly drank the blood and wiped his mouth.

* * *

Sam didn't know how long he had been without the blood, but it had to be hours judging by the pain he was feeling in his entire body. Jessica had just disappeared, leaving the room disturbingly silent. He tried to take advantage of the silence and sleep,but Dean came through the door and stood by the bed. "Dean," he whispered, voice too hoarse to do much more.

Dean just scoffed and crouched, eyes turning black as he reached eye level with Sam. "You did this. You did this to me!" Dean—not Dean, Sam tried to convince himself—screamed.

"No, Dean. Not you, too." Sam couldn't help but cry, the guilt of having all of his loved ones and family members curse him, blame him, even damn him to Hell, was wearing him dangerously thin. "You can't do this."

Dean slammed his fist into Sam's stomach and he could actually _feel_ it. "I can do anything. Of course, that's only 'cause I'm a demon. So maybe I should thank you." Sam stared, confused. "Thank you for being the worst brother. Thank you for being so selfish, so conceited, that you didn't stop me from becoming a demon. Thank you, _Sammy!" _

Sam cringed at the nickname. "I did though! I tried to stop you! I tried, Dean!" Another vicious cramp overtook him and he arched off the bed. "Please, Dean! Make it stop!"

Dean crouched again, "What makes you think I'd ever want to help you?"

Sam knew this Dean wasn't real, but just _hearing_ Dean's voice say that, even if it really wasn't him, shattered him. "Get out! You're not real! Get the hell away from me!" He struggled hard against the cuffs, causing the padding Dean stuffed between the metal and his skin to fall out. The more he struggled to get away from Dean, the more freely he bled. "You're not real! You can't be!"

* * *

Dean struggled with Sam's tortured screams, trying to figure out how to reverse the spell, and dealing with being a demon. Every minute he felt something dark try to wrap around him, trying to take over. Every minute he struggled to stay in control. All Dean wanted to do was kill Crowley slowly, but Sam needed him. Sam kept him in control.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face and closed the book he currently had open. "Shit." He mumbled when Sam's screams rose back up again. This detox had proved to be _much_ worse than all of the others. Sam had started hallucinating almost immediately after Dean left, if not before.

He was glad they didn't have any nearby neighbors, and that they were underground, because the cops would surely be there by now. Sam had been screaming for Dean to help, for him to stop, but what hurt him the most was when Sam yelled for Dean to kill him.

Dean had heard Sam scream for his dad, mom, Jess, Bobby, Crowley, and even Amelia. Some were in joy, others were not. By the end of each one, Sam was sobbing so quietly that he had to check on him.

Dean nearly broke down when Sam yelled for Dean to stop hitting him, to stop blaming him, to just _leave. _"There's no way he thinks I blame him for this, there's no damn way I'd hit him. My god." Dean put his head in his hands and, for the first time in weeks, prayed.

He had prayed for Castiel. He told him about everything that had been happening, told him how sorry he was, told him how he needed him. Needed his help. He was still praying when he heard the familiar voice behind him. "Hello, Dean." Dean was scared to turn around, thinking he might have imagined the deep voice. After a few deep breaths, he turned. He was glad he took those breaths because what he saw took his breath away.

* * *

**(A/N: I know this is a short chapter, but I stopped it where I stopped it for a reason. Cas is back in town! (: I hope you guys enjoy! I'm going to try to update at least once a week. Most of the time I'll probably post every 3-4 days. (: )**


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